Oft Hope is Born
by Nilbrethil
Summary: Story of one Gondorian girl's struggles, trials, and relationships (Boromir or Faramir, perhaps?)


PROLOGUE  
  
Author's Note: This is only the prologue! The rest will come up as soon as I write it.which is, as soon as I find time. Thanks to all who have R&R so far! I appreciate and love comments and constructive criticism. Lady-Tinuviel: Lol, angest is good, right!? Hope: Yah! I'm so glad you like it that much! And don't worry, it will be continued.no need for you to hunt me down!  
  
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Pale down broke over the fields of Anórien, gilding the tall grasses with an unearthly gold. The sun's long fingers spread slowly across the land but offered scant warmth in the early morning hours. The world was strangely quiet, save for the soft creak of a saddle and jingle of a harness. Four horseback travelers were making their way along the Great West Road, traveling with the sun casting long shadows at their mount's feet. Leading the small procession was a man, his silver helm glinting in the gathering daylight. He wore a hauberk made of wrought steel, a short black surcoat with the token of a white flowering tree upon his chest, and a stone-gray cloak, which whipped about him in the frosty wind. Emotionless eyes scanned the horizon while sharp ears listened for any movement out of the ordinary, which was hard considering the fact that the teenage boy beside him was jabbering away excitedly. Finally content that all was well, the man peered down from his great height at the boy who was trying to gesture important parts of his story with his hands while still keep control of his horse. "It would do you well, Master Adalard, to concentrate more on your mount that on your tale" said the man bordly, for the boy's horse had just stopped to munch on some tender shoots flowering along the path. Adalard looked surprised for a second, then hurried the animal on. "Well, as I was saying Eadward, I've heard stories from the boys at school that the Rohan warriors are so fierce, no man has ever survived one of their assaults". He muttered all this in a hushed whisper, as though some mounted soldiers were nearby, listening to his every word. "O really?" replied Eadward, arching a brow. "Then where do the stories come from, I wonder?" Adalard simply scowled up at him beneath wavy, dirty-blonde hair and murmured something about a bloody showoff. "Anyways, you should know well by now that the Gondorian army is the best Middle-earth has to offer," said Eadward, puffing out his chest as well as one could while wearing a layer of thick mail. "Those Roharrium look like simple farmers compared to the might of our people." "I wouldn't be so sure of that Eadward." A soft voice had drifted from behind them, and the soldier turned around to better see its owner. A lady clothed all in white was trotting gently along, a small girl of 10 gazing up at her from a jet black horse. The fair maiden tucked a strand of golden-blonde hair behind her ear before speaking again. "The men of Rohan are a great and hardy people who have overcome great odds. To say that they are simple farmers is like calling you a mere foot soldier." She studied him intently with her blazing blue eyes and Eadward's stern nature seemed to waver for a second. With a forced cough he muttered, "My apologies, Lady Leonor", and faced front again, glaring down at Adalard who was about to open his mouth. The boy shut it abruptly, thought for a moment, than addressed Lady Leonor. "Mother, may my sister and I go off a bit to look for some herbs for supper?" She nodded her consent, and smiled to herself, for she knew no herbs grew in this region of the Sun Plains. Adalard spurred his horse forward so suddenly, the animal reared in terror before dashing off into the high grasses. The girl only had to whisper a few words into her black steed's ear before they were gone, eating up the ground and leaving Adalard in their dust.  
The two raced their horses for quite a while, the girl's stallion always coming up 10 strides or more in front of the puffing brown roan of her brother. Suddenly, Adalard stopped his horse with a sharp pull on the reins. The girl was about to tease him for giving up the race so quickly when he jabbed his boots into the sides of the roan and galloped wildly back to the Road. Puzzled, she stared at the swiftly retreating back of her brother until the cause of his urgency became crystal clear; the loud crashes of sword upon sword were echoing across the plains. Adalard and the girl reached the crest of the hill just as a high-pitched scream reached their ears. Looking down, they gasped in horror at the scene unfolding before them.  
Eadward had been knocked off his horse with a blow to the chest, and lay on the ground, gasping for air. He had only seconds to recover before a grotesque creature covered in crude armor and riding a giant wolf rounded on him. He was almost to his feet when the thing stabbed him in the chest with a jagged blade. Eadward groaned, then fell to the ground, where he lay still. The Lady Leonor was upon her wide-eyed horse, battling with another of the creatures. Seeing her two children staring open-mouthed at her, she screamed, "Run! Get out of here while you still can!" Adalard and the girl had just enough time to see a creature put an arrow to its bow and aim it at their mother before they were forced to flee. 


End file.
